The Lantern

Isaiah40

Comfort ye—comfort ye my people,—Saith your God.

Speak ye unto the heart of Jerusalem, And cry unto her,—That accomplished is her warfare, That accepted is her punishment,—That she hath received, at the hand of Yahweh, According to the full measure of all her sins.

A voice of one crying!—In the desert, prepare ye the way of Yahweh,—Make smooth in the waste plain a highway for our God:

Let, every valley, be exalted, And every mountain and hill, be made low,—And, the steep ground become, level, And, the chain of hills—a plain:

Then shall be revealed the glory of Yahweh,—And all flesh shall see it together, For, the mouth of Yahweh, hath spoken!

A voice saying Cry! And one said—What should I cry? All flesh, is grass, And, all the grace thereof, like the flower of the field:

The grass hath withered The flower hath faded, Because, the breath of Yahweh, hath blown upon it! Surely the people is grass!

The grass, hath withered, The flower, hath faded,—But the word of our God, shall stand unto times age-abiding!

To a high mountain, get ye up, O herald—band of Zion, Lift high with strength your voice, O herald—band of Jerusalem,—Lift it high, do not fear, Say to the cities of Judah—Lo! your God!

Lo! My Lord, Yahweh, as a mighty one, doth come, And, his own arm, is about to rule for him,—Lo! his reward, is with him, And, his recompense, before him;

Like a shepherd, his flock, will he tend, In his own arm, will he take up the lambs, And in his own bosom, will he carry [them],—Them which are with young, will he lead to a place of rest.

Who hath measured, with the hollow of his hand, the waters. Or the heavens with a span, hath meted out, Or hath comprehended, in a measure, the dust of the earth, Or weighed, in scales, the mountains, Or the hills, in a balance?

Who hath proved the spirit of Yahweh? Or being his counsellor hath been giving him knowledge?

With whom hath he taken counsel—And he hath given him intelligence, And instructed him in the path of justice,—And taught him knowledge, And in the way of intelligence, hath been giving him understanding?

Lo! nations, Are us a drop on a bucket, And as fine dust on a balance, are accounted,—Lo! islands, like an atom, can he hoist;

And, Lebanon, is not sufficient to burn,—Nor, the beasts thereof sufficient for an ascending-sacrifice!

All nations, are as nothing before him,—A thing of nought or a waste, are they accounted unto him?

Unto whom then can ye liken GOD? Or, what likeness, can ye compare unto him?

The image, hath been cast by an artificer, And a goldsmith, with gold, overlayeth it,—And, chains of silver, he worketh.

The needy offerer, of a tree that will not rot, maketh choice,—A skilled artificer, seeketh he out for himself to construct an image that shall not totter,

Have ye never taken note? Have ye never heard? Hath it not from the beginning, been told you? Have ye not been led to discern, from the foundations of the earth?

It is he who sitteth upon the circle of the earth, While the inhabitants thereof are, as grass-hoppers,—Who stretcheth forth, as a curtain, the heavens, And spreadeth them out as a tent to dwell in;

Who delivereth dignitaries to nothingness,—Judges of earth, like a desolation, hath he made:

Scarcely have they been planted, Scarcely have they been sown, Scarcely hath their stock, begun to take root in the earth, When he hath just blown upon them and they have withered, And, a whirlwind, as though they had been chaff, carrieth them away.

Unto whom then, can ye liken me, or can I be equal? Saith the Holy One.

Lift on high your eyes—and see who hath created these, That bringeth forth, by number, their host,—To all of them by name, doth call, Because of the abundance of vigour and alertness of strength, not one, is missing!

Wherefore, shouldest thou say, O Jacob, or speak, O Israel,—Hidden is my path from Yahweh, And from my God, my vindication, will pass?

Hast thou not known, Hast thou not heard, That The God of age-past time—Yahweh The Creator of the ends of the earth Fainteth not neither groweth weary—There is no searching of his understanding:

Giving to him that fainteth, strength, And to him that hath no vigour, he causeth, power to abound?

Youths both faint and grow weary, And, young warriors—they fall, they fall;

But, they who wait for Yahweh, shall renew their strength, They shall mount on strong pinion like eagles,—They shall run and not grow weary, They shall walk and not faint.